Demonium: Of Gold and Wine
by prussianblues
Summary: AU. RoBul. For a plain man wine,gold,pleasure and whatnot are something more than unreachable. It's degrading and troublesome.His passion relies on the finest forms of literature and on the daily tea he drinks. Imagine how would a guy like him feel if he ended up in a 'sinful' lifestyle,surrounded by persons whose morals are...nonexistent. Will he even make it through in one piece?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I...**  
**

Can hear the violins echoing in the vast marble hallway. The sound vibrates through the frozen, wintry air. Soft steps snap on the hard floor-one, two, three-high heels, the rustle of long rich dresses, delicate giggles and sweet nothings whispered. This is, probably, a masquerade ball, but I cannot know for sure, for my eyes have lost the ability to see. Where am I? The party seems to fade away, like a memory, like a dream, like a mere fantasy.

Vanilla, cinnamon and cigarettes...the scent fills the air, fills my lungs, burning my nostrils and my throat with their intoxicating aroma. I've always been fond of vanilla, be it only fragrance or taste. It reminds me of childhood, of ice cream in summer days, of pudding late in the night, when sleep refuses to visit my exhausted body. Cinnamon, on the other hand, is the odour I abhorred as long as I can remember. The dusty scent poisoned my nose, my lungs..it infiltrated everywhere. Cinnamon is bitter and exotic, cinnamon is a foreign smell. Whenever I am angry, bitter or depressed, the blasted flavour and smell overtake my senses. I cannot get rid of it. But in the case of cigarettes...this is something else. This addicting and malevolent fragrance is a new passion of mine, something that crept deep down into my being recently. It calms me with its spicy aura, it makes me think of home, although my parents never smoked. This is another kind of home. A home I discovered in my late twenties, when I was no longer mama's boy, when their cold grave would be the only welcoming that I could receive from them.

It's cold. I..wish I could cover my body with something. _Move. Move! MOVE! _But my body refuses to do so. The wind is whistling through an unseen hole, it sings the hollow song of loneliness, of stillness, it sings for someone who has no ears to hear, for someone that is deaf or for someone who cannot understand loneliness. This song is not for me, but I hear it and I am the only one who acknowledges this. My heart aches terribly inside my chest. But if it aches it means that is still there..right? I'm lying in something wet. What is this...? Is it water?

Why can't I move?

My head gets dizzier. How did I managed to get in this position? I try to recollect the day before, but all I can remember is having dinner with **him**. Is this a nightmare? Why can't I wake up? Also...is it even day or night? The taste of black grapes returned in my mouth, freshly and slightly bitter. Last night I had a black grape with my neighbour, despite the fact that I strongly dislike those grapes. After that, I lost my memory.

It's cold and dark...My head is getting more and more numb second by second. I can't feel the strange mix of scents, nor can I hear the wind whistling through the unseen hole. I might...


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Beige walls and black coffee**

_"Let the rain wash all the pain of yesterday..."_

* * *

It was a cold, rainy day of April, the day my life started to fall apart. Sure, life has its ups and downs, but that day was different. Maybe because of the gloomy grey sky, or because that it was spring so it was supposed to be all warm and pleasant, when, in reality, the wind was cold, harsh, forcing humans to take their winter coats and animals to crawl between buildings in order to warm up. Or maybe just because my ordinary life had been messed by fate which decided that I had been ignored for too long.

My name is Aleksander Balakov, I am a man in my late twenties, twenty eight to be more precise. I am a man in my late twenties, twenty eight to be more precise. I am not stunningly tall, nor am I shamefully short, my height being 1.70 m. I am not well-built and, because of that, people usually mistake me for a teenager or, anyway, someone way younger. The fact that I have a baby face does not help me in the very least. Fair skinned and calm looking, people usually don't bother with my person too much. In this country, if you have skin too pale, you're being stared at as if you are not a normal person, but some sort of a looser or who-knows-what-kind-of-creature. The only thing that apparently saves my looks, at least according to their beliefs, is the dark green colour of my eyes. They are the colour of a healthy, secular forest, the kind of colour which makes many believe that is noble, rich and delicate shade of green. Truth is, I've heard this from someone a while ago, but never paid attention to them. Ebony locks cover my forehead, the colour giving me a completely serious appearance. Long ago, someone told me that I would have been such a beauty, if I was blond. I remember frowning deeply but saying nothing. Since then...you could say that blond guys kind of piss me off. I don't really know if it has anything with their hair colour or it's just their attitude- it's probably a bit of both- but, oh well..

I am working at a bookshop in the old centre of the city, between a nice cafe and a restaurant. I've been working there for more than five years and I must say that it is, somehow, pleasant. The inside is was refined, with beige wallpaper and tall rosewood bookshelves packet with all sorts of books- from teenage fantasy to great works like "Hamlet" or "The Great Gatsby" to science and, why not, music. Of course, at some point it gets a bit boring, but that can be fixed with a cup of coffee or tea or with friendly, book-loving costumers. I didn't especially dream to work at a bookstore, but the idea sparked my interest and I asked myself "_why not?". _

"Balakov, we need to talk," **that **was my boss. For some unknown reason, he has a strong dislike towards me, although he never calls me names or truly bullies me. Instead of that he is plain cold, glaring at me occasionally through his glasses. Sometimes he puts me in awkward positions, but nothing too serious either. I don't even know what to think of him, truth to be told, his behavior doesn't even bother me that much.

"Sure, sir," I said in Romanian, of course. You know what they say: _When in Rome, do as the Romans do. _Also, it would be pretty creepy if I suddenly started going all Bulgarian on them. After all, I was the stranger, the intruder. Their country, their laws. You can't go there, expect them to welcome you, hire you if you keep talking in some strange foreign language. Because, believe, Bulgarian and Romanian aren't alike. No. I stood up and followed him, both silent as he had nothing to talk about. In front of out door, there was a girl with brown long hair, wavy at the ends, sparkling yellow-green eyes and a wide smile on her lips.

"Aleksander Balakov, this is Miss Erzébet Héderváry, Miss Héderváry, this is Aleksander Balakov," he introduced us, before we shook our hands. She wore a knee length dress under the white trench coat. And she had no make up on, which was perfect, because she looked so beautiful natural. "Starting today you are to teach her the ropes," and my smile immediately faltered. Was he...firing me? I nodded and turned to look at her. She gave me an apologetic look but I waved my hand in the air as if it was nothing.

"Sure, sir," I replied.

"Good. As expected from you, Balakov," he said and left the store. I watched his tall, black clothed figure getting lost in the crowd, his black umbrella standing up proudly against the merciless rain drops that kept falling from the sky since early in the morning.

"I-" she started but I immediately caught her off, ungluing my gaze from the window.

"It's ok," I said, my voice nonchalant, low, vibrating in the air and getting lost in the harsh wind of the outside when the door opened to reveal a wet-from-head-to-toe costumer. I could see with corner of my eyes that she still had that worried look on her face. Tch. I bet that Claude, my boss, didn't even tell her the whole truth about the job. She seems like a kind person, but, oh well, one can never know. "Do you want me to take care of this one or..?"

"It's fine. I worked in a bookstore in the past," I raised and eyebrow. Then why show her the ropes? "I didn't mention that in my Curriculum Vitae," as if she knew what I had been thinking about a couple of moments ago. I frowned and she gave me a mysterious smile which only made me frown deeper. _Can this day get any stranger? _That's the kind of question that we all ask at some point in our lives, but shortly after that we find out that the answer is _Yes, it can. _Then the second day we say it again. "I used to help my grandpa with his bookstore when I was younger so yeah.." _So Claude didn't even know you were practically an expert in this domain, but still..he chose you._

"I see," I mumble. "Then should I leave it to you?"

"You don't want to spend the rest of the month here?" she sounded a bit surprised. Of course I wanted, but what was the point in extending my agony? I shook my hand in disapproval. I opened my mouth to word my feelings, but closed it shortly after. What's the point in whining about it to her, to anyone? I turned around, took my things, which weren't many because I am not the kind of person who likes to carry around stuff like some sort of a donkey. After putting my scarf and my jacket on, I turned to take a last glance of the store that has been like a refuge of mine the past few years.

"Goodbye, Miss Héderváry!" I said, waving my hand slightly as I stepped outside. I opened my umbrella.

"See you around!" she cheerfully shouted from the other end of the store. _I highly doubt that. _But I nodded and, just like Claude, faded in the crowd of Braşov, letting the cold drops and harsh almost wintry wind wash away all the pain, or at least indulging myself to become one with the glacial weather phenomenas.

* * *

5PM.

I was sitting in a small, quiet cafe, looking at my own reflection in the coffee cup pitifully. I sighed and ran a hand through my pitch black hair, ruffling it slightly, suddenly not carrying if it got messy or not. "Moonlight sonata" played in the cafe, a rare thing in Romania, because, for some reason, most of the people here flinch, frown or stare strangely at you if you say something about classical music. If I am to be honest, I find classical music to my liking, along with a good book and a cup of hot something, be it mint tea or coffee.

Until that point, I had had a normal, plain, ordinary -you name it- life. I hadn't been the popular kid in high school, but I hadn't been the in the centre of dislike either. I had had a few friends, none of them really close, a few enemies as well who had liked to pull pranks on me or simply tease me, but nothing serious. No hardcore bullies. No best friends. I hadn't been the smartest kid in my class, but I hadn't been slacking off either. I wasn't poor, neither rich. The only thing that really made me different was that I liked to read and I was mostly pretty quiet. Until I got angry. And sometimes I would've acted on a whim, but well..I was young back then. I went to college, my life was the same. I even had dated a few times, but they hadn't lasted too long.

Before Claude Magnussen, there was another guy in charge of the bookstore. Said guy was my real employer- his name was Marius Magnussen- Claude's older brother. Unfortunately, Marius died in a car accident two years ago and Claude was forced to take over. Unlike Claude, Marius was a nice, warm and polite man. One day he even sent me to share balloons with meaningful, optimistic messages to random people on the streets. It had been a very heart-warming experience. I remember him asking me how I felt at the end of that day and I couldn't even express my happiness in words. He just laughed and patted my back. I sighed.

To be honest, I was a bit surprised that Claude endured me for two years.

**_BANG! BANG!_**

My gaze shot up immediately from the cup of hot dark liquid to look at the wide opened door. Through relatively thick smoke I could see a tall, male figure standing at the door. He started yelling something, but I certainly paid no attention anymore.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Crimson**

_"He was like a God, an ancient, forgotten creature that had descended from its throne to torment my poor, weak self. It goes without saying that I immediately felt myself drawn to him, that I could not resist him, although I knew I was bound to get damned."-E.B._

* * *

The figure was about 1.75 metres tall, wind ruffled his locks and his long coat. He was carrying a gun in his left hand,a gun he immediately pointed at the bartender. Smoke dissipated in the air, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the intruder. His skin was as white as paper, smooth, without wrinkles. Hair strawberry blond, shoulder length, framed his handsome face. His nose was delicate and his lips were rich and pink, but not a faint pink. His eyebrows were black, roofing big round crimson red eyes. Yes, his eyes, were like the colour of a dark red rose, of dripping blood, of the flames of hell. His features were soft, childish and, dare I say, beautiful, but his eyes were so deep, so cruel and so dangerous I immediately looked elsewhere. They did not suit him, they were far too piercing for his childish features. Even his long eyelashes seemed unreal, guarding his red pupils that seemed to hold a great amount of dark, blood stained secrets. I shivered.

"Daniel," the man said, his voice dead serious and the bartender placed the glass he was washing on the counter along with the white towel.

Said Daniel was probably the same height as the other man, but I couldn't be sure since they were parted by three or four metres. He wore a white shirt and black trousers and he was thin. His hair was brown, tied in a short ponytail, while his eyes were green. He reminded me of someone whose name I could recall at that time.

"Dog," Daniel almost spitted the word as he was walking towards the intruder. The blond's grip tensed on the gun and I found myself flinching at his movement. Daniel's hand slowly reached for his pocket, though I wondered what he could possibly hide in the dark cloth. A gun?

"I should be the one saying that," the other retorted, grimacing at him, his rather long, slim fingers tightening around the metallic object. That's when my body instantly stood up and crossed the room to stop between the two of them. In a split of a second I saw his demonic eyes widen, his lips part slightly, before my hand automatically reached for his face, slapping his soft cheek _**hard**_. He dropped his gun automatically, the object hit the wooden floor the next second with a loud _**POCK!**_ while his hand retreated near his body. I'd never been violent until that moment, I could barely kill a fly, but he triggered something inside myself that made me slap him.

"Idiot!" I shouted at the frozen man who did nothing but stare at me for a couple of minutes. A loud laughter left his throat, shaking his body vigorously, making him bend and hold his stomach with both of his arms. I stared at him confused. What was there to laugh? He was going to shoot a man so I slapped him. Was he mentally ill? I was strongly believing he was.

"You're amazing!" he said after he pulled himself together. His statement only caused my glare to deepen. Yes, he was totally insane. His cold hands grabbed the hand that had just slapped him and his gaze was no longer dangerous, feral, but childish and I swear I could spot sparkles in his eyes.

"Huuuh?" was all I could say.

"Daniel, let's forget it. I've found something more interesting!" he said, totally ignoring my completely lost stare. How could he go from all dangerous and predator to childish, cheerful, loud and dumb? Showing Daniel the happy finger, he grabbed my hand and dragged me outside. He hadn't even picked up his fucking gun! I immediately hitched my hand from his. He turned around raising an eyebrow.

"Are you insane?!" I shouted causing the people that passed by to stare at us. He just smiled at me strangely.

"Why?" Was he serious or was he making fun of my poor self? "I might be, you know," he added wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at me. I pushed his chest slightly.

"Go away," my voice bitter and filled with repugnance.

"Don't want to," he simply stated and grabbed my hand once again. "Now behave and follow me, mister stranger!"

"Don't call me mister stranger. Damn it! At least ask for my name, you idiot!" I snapped. "What are you, twelve?" He laughed again while dragging me through cold rain. I forgot my trench coat at that cafe, but at that time I didn't care. Soon we found ourselves in a bar. The room was poorly lit and and crowded, only one table was free in the corner of the room. Cigarette smoke made the air impossible to be inhaled, but somehow we sailed through it.

"Sorry. My name is Vladimir Lupei. And you must be...?" he offered me his hand and I looked at him...

"Aleksander Balakov." I almost whispered feeling my neck going dry all of sudden. His lips curled in a slight grin and a rather violent shudder ran down my spine. Again, his gaze held something uncanny within it, it was only natural for me to feel afraid, right? I took his hand, still unsure if I were doing the right thing. We shook them, our gaze never breaking.

"So," he paused to order a bottle of red wine,"would you like some wine as well? Or do you prefer cigarettes?" His finger reached for the pocket of his black coat and for a second he made me think of some 19th century gentleman with his silver cigarette case and massive old ring. I shook my head.

"I do not drink, nor do I smoke," I said looking at the wooden walls, but I could still feel his gaze fixed on me, boring holes through my wet head. I could hear my heart beat uncontrollably fast in my chest, threatening to break me. I wondered if he heard it too. Of course not. Pfft. But still, I felt so nervous, my palms were sweating and I suddenly wanted to disappear. This was something I wasn't used to. The whole situation was confusing and I couldn't stop from thinking if I shouldn't have bolted out the room before I got murdered or at least robbed of any pride I still had. But I never stood up to leave.

"Then it's time you started."

"Well, I guess a glass of wine won't kill me.." I sighed. I wasn't really in the mood for drinking, but I didn't really want to be sober either.

"That's my boy!" he patted my shoulder and I flinched at his touch. I wasn't really a 'touchy' person, in fact I liked having personal space, thank you very much. If he saw, he chose to ignore it. The waitress brought us a bottle of wine and I hesitantly took my drink and brought it to my lips. Even without looking at him, I could tell he was registering my very movement and that only made me feel uneasier, if possible.

* * *

**_Four bottles of wine later..._**

Beside the fact that my head was lighter than a fucking feather and that some words seemed stuck in my throat, I was doing well. Everything was fan-fucking-tastic! I only wished that Claude had been there so I could give him a piece of my mind. I mean, honestly, what had I done so wrong that he had to replace me with that fucking chick? Uggh, this is annoying.

"Say, Aleksander, you've got something on your mind, right?" _You don't say._ "I don't mean to barge or anything..." _Oh, you fucking mean to barge, don't play innocent. I ain't stupid, you know. _

"Well, yeah.." I started and took a sip of the dark coloured liquid. "But I don't see how any of that is your business, gun boy." I muttered quite annoyed and took another sip of my crimson poison. He snickered, obviously amused by my tone and that only made me glare at him.

"Come on, don't be so stiff. It's not good for your health. You need to talk about your problems to somebody!" he said. "I mean, don't you have friends or something? What were you doing in that bar all by yourself?" Now, there it was, the Spanish Inquisition. I rolled my eyes obviously not amused. Why did he even bother? Did he have nothing gossip-worth and he decided that intruding in my life was a good idea? Well, sorry, boy with peculiar eyes, I am not interested. "Well?"

"Again, none of your business," I muttered.

"Fine, no need to be so defensive. Good God, can't anyone be the good Samaritan and help his own kind?" If you asked me, he was more talking to himself, but his remark still angered me, so I didn't hold back my reply.

"And a good Samaritan is usually pointing guns at strangers in a public place in the middle of the day, right? Then said good person is kind of kidnapping another stranger and trying to get him drunk." I retorted tapping my fingers on the massive wooden table. "But, to your disappointment, I can't really get drunk. Even if the room is spinning, my mind is functioning even better than before, so don't think you can try anything funny, mister!" I warned him. Despite being the average man, I had an unusual resistance when it came to alcohol.

"Chill, _amice, _no one said anything about that. I know that our first meeting wasn't really pleasant, bu-"

"But? Look, pal, I am not the kind who trusts random guys pointing guns at people. I'm sure that there is another way to solve your little misunderstanding with the bartender. But don't get me involved in your problems. I have enough to deal with at the moment, honestly." I interrupted him.

"Oh, sure, Aleksander," I scowled at him for calling me by my firstname. "You're not upset that I am calling you Aleksander, are you?" he asked slightly concerned. Now I was concerned too. Was I that obvious and if so, what else did he know or was he, in some impossible way, reading my mind? I suddenly felt self-conscious and I certainly did not like it. Kind of 'mind-naked' too.

"No, it's ok," I replied and the next second I wanted to slap my self hard. I was supposed to tell him _yes, it bothers me, now bugger off! _not be all friendly and the sort. Well, it must have been the alcohol. Maybe it finally reached my brain. His pink lips curled in a slight grin. He felt pleased by my answer and he wasn't really trying to hide it either. Smug bastard.

"So...why were you lonely in a bar?" he pushed it further and I sighed. He was like a brat, curious and intrusive. And I wasn't sure whether to like that or not.

"I...well, my boss fired me this morning. Let's say it wasn't really nice of him. I've been working there for years..." my words trailed off and my gaze lowered fixing the half empty glass of ruby wine.

"What an ass," he said suddenly and I immediately raised my gaze to look at him rather astonished. "What? It's true. You don't seem the type who'd slack at work or be rude with the others. He had no real reason to fire you, I'm sure, even if I don't know anything about you. That is, sure, if you aren't a psychotic killer under that polite and gentle mask," he smiled by the end of his last sentence, but his eyes did not. Again, those uncanny eyes of his; they can't seem to cut me some slack. I frowned.

"You really are in no position to ask me that, you know," I pointed out the obvious, but he said nothing. He just stood there, on the other side of the table and stared at me shamelessly, the grin never leaving his lips.

_"I know. That's why I am doing it, Aleksander."_


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Places to be, People to see**

_"Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow"_

-_In the cold light of morning_, Placebo

~.~

* * *

_"You really are in no position to ask me that, you know," I pointed out the obvious, but he said nothing. He just stood there, on the other side of the table and stared at me shamelessly, the grin never leaving his lips._

_**"I know. That's why I am doing it, Aleksander."**_

_The nerve of this guy! And all of the sudden I stopped being scandalized by his strange behaviour. It was probably the alcohol or maybe I had an epiphany of sorts in the back of my mind, deep down in my subconscious mind, but I found my lips curling a grin that could probably match his. _

_"__I see." I paused and took a gentle sip of the wine. "Tell me, why did you attack the bartender?" But as soon as I asked that his gaze became rigid and his grin faltered. _

_The silence at our table stretched for a while, before he decided to answer, gaze never dropping. "He owes me something." And with that it became clear to me that he would not, under any circumstance, proceed to give me more details. I nodded slightly, my head feeling airy, my vision blurring. _

_Uh-oh._

_Darkness enveloped me._

* * *

Needless to say, a month passed since the incident at the bar. Since then, there was no trace of the strange Romanian man, but it wasn't like I looked for him. If anything, I have been holed up in my apartment for the past month with the exception of those few times when I went to a job interview and went to buy groceries from the nearest store. Other than that, I limited my contact with the outside world as much as possible.

The incident at the bar was so goddamn embarrassing I dare not lay foot outside this flat unless absolutely necessary. You see, after I passed oud, Mr. Lupei decided to drag me out to get some fresh air. Which means everyone saw me. Drunk. Fucked up.

Me, Aleksander Balakov. The man who never had a drink in his life, except for that one time when a classmate dared me to drink beer at the first and last party I ever attended at the end of my high school year. And let's say I had been so disgusted by that sour taste I never bothered with it again. Some, of course, didn't hesitate to express their disgust with me, while others were downright amused by my, probably constipated, face.

I have no idea how long I laid there, on the bench not too far from the bar, unconscious until I regained my senses again. All I know is that I woke up, it was dark and chilly and Lupei had that monstrous grin plastered on his face, eyes twinkling with mischief while he helped me sit up.

_"__I thought you died on me, but then I checked your pulse, so I calmed down a little." _Is what he said to me, the little shit. I would have strangled him then and there, were it not for my splitting headache, aching stomach and somewhat dizzy vision.

After he offered to walk with me to my apartment, which I absolutely refused, he said he wanted to treat me to a meal to undo the bad he'd done to me, but I refused that as well and told him I'd see him around then made my way home without looking back and definitely not stopping when he kept calling my name.

It's hard to believe I made it home in one piece, but I did and miraculously I did not get robbed or killed on my way either. I guess there must be some sort of god out there or at least karma, otherwise I have no clue how I made it home safely.

Needless to say, I am keen on avoiding that man at all costs.

On another note, whatever luck I ever seemed to have on my side suddenly vanished because no one was willing to hire me this month. Claude gave me the last pay check a few days ago and now I have to look for a job. But, like I said, no one is willing to hire me.

_If I can't find something soon I will be evicted and then I'd have no one to turn to for help. My parents are dead, my grandma is probably dead too but she hates me anyway and I have no brothers or sisters. I have no friends who'd be willing to help me, but I guess I could try contacting some people I used to know and used to be my friends._

You see, I am not the type of man to go out and party. I don't hang out with others too often. Or at all in fact. My social interactions were mostly the ones at the book shop. But I lost this. I sighed, hand on the _Nordic Mythology_ book I was reading before my thoughts started to go astray. The sky was grey outside and I could hear the wind violently pushing people inside their homes or in colourful, sweet-scented shops. My living room was in a state of semi tidiness, with the occasional empty package of salted or sweet _pufuleți_, and I was sitting in my armchair staring at the turned off old TV. The man in the dark glass looked unkempt; dark circles pooling under the green now hollow eyes. And what a few days was a five o'clock shadow, now started to form into a beard. Which was quite scary considering I am not really a hairy man.

_I no longer looked like myself. _

With that in mind, I grabbed my book and returned to the world of mischievous gods, epic creatures and Ragnarök, or commonly known as the apocalypse, end of the world, you name it.

"Eduard, please. I know we haven't talked in a while and that we weren't that close back in high school anyway, but I just need some time before I find a job and I will be out of your hair before you know it."

There was a sigh on the other side. "Look, Aleks, you are a great guy and helped me a lot, but I can't. My wife is expecting our daughter this month and there's no room for anyone in our flat anymore. Also, no one wants to live even next to a new born, least of all with one. Honestly, I don't even know how _I _will cope with it, but Maria is my daughter, so I guess I will have to suck it up and do it."

It was my turn to sigh. "I know. I'm sorry. Look, it's fine. I'll find another way. Congratulations, by the way! May your daughter be healthy and happy. And your wife."

Eduard let out a little relieved sigh on the other side. "I'm really sorry, Aleks. I wish I could help you, but perhaps Matei is in need of a flatmate. I can give you his number if you think it'd help."

My heart skipped a beat. "If you could…I'd be forever indebted to you."

Eduard chuckled. "No worries, buddy. You helped me a lot in high school. After all, without you, I'd have never passed history. I am telling you, Mrs. Moldoveanu had something against me."

"Yeah, well I think she simply hated everyone, really," I confessed. I normally don't speak ill of people, but Mrs. Moldoveanu was a very strict teacher and often her attitude couldn't even be justified. Even our best student in history had a hard time in her classes and that said a lot, considering that Roxana was brilliant. Seriously, I've never seen someone so passionate about history in my life.

He laughed. "Indeed. Well, I gotta go now, but I will text you his number in a sec, alright?"

"Mhm. Thank you, Edi."

"Don't mention it." And with that the call ended. I could only hope now. Hopefully, Matei will be able and also willing to take me under his roof until I find a job, but it's hard to believe. I've been calling all afternoon my friends from high school and uni and most of them seemed reluctant. I can't even blame them; after all I don't have much money left. I do have some savings but they won't last me long.

My gaze fell on the old TV in the living room. I never used it although I had been the one to buy it when I moved in this flat, years ago not too long after graduation. My girlfriend at that time loved watching telly before bed, although in all honesty everything they show is crap. But she was rather fond of _Cronica Cârcotașilor_ and laughter filled this old flat. Such a pure sound.

Mihaela was a nice girl. A bit too fond of certain things that quicked irked me for no apparent reason- like that one time when everyone in the country was obsessed with _corai_, a shade of pink-orange so horrible I wanted to pluck out my eyeballs with tweezers whenever I saw someone clad in it. She usually mocked me when she saw me reading my books, but mostly everyone did so I was used to it by then. In fact, she wasn't that nice. She was pretty, oh that she was, her blonde hair was soft and long and her eyes were as blue as the sky in a warm summer day.

But she was really inconsiderate about many things. She judged people easily and hardly accepted anyone who did not fit the norm. She would often criticize my fashion sense, as I was never the type of man to follow the trends, which meant long trips to the mall and we wouldn't leave home until she had at least two outfits that met her criteria. Said outfits usually were completely against my tastes and I avoided dressing that way as often as I could.

I remember that one time when he forced me to go to a hairstylist to change my haircut to a more 'trendy' one. We had a huge fight about it, but just like always I ended up doing whatever she wanted, and I looked like a retarded chicken for three months until my hair grew back and had the opportunity to style it more to my tastes.

She hated classical music with a passion, which is why she never found out about my secret stash of classical music CDs hidden in the attic. My flat isn't in a block of flats, but in an old house and since I am the one who lives at the last floor, I have access to the attic as well. She never dared to go there. She said it was too dusty and old and she'll be damned if she got haunted because she went there.

Either way, I was happy, for once, with her decision and let her be. I didn't even attempt to clean it up, thinking that I should use the dust and spider webs to my advantage to keep her away from my classical music.

You might wonder how we even ended up together if we were so different in the first place, but let me tell you that she hadn't always been like that. We met at uni, she was a Foreign Languages student and she was shy and sweet. But then she became friends with Anca Ciocan and Elena Popescu in her second year and gone was the girl I fell in love with. Slowly she became this judgemental, party-crazed woman who could not be happy if she wasn't rich and spoiled all the time.

And I might not be a deep person, maybe I am your average guy, but hell if I can stand someone as shallow as her. We broke up years later. She cheated on me with a guy who shared the same mentality as her. On my bed, when I was supposed to be at work, but came home early since my boss had an emergency and decided to close early.

To say I was shocked, it would be an understatement. Obviously, I knew that our relationship wasn't the best, if anything I was planning on telling her I wanted us to break up, but I never thought she'd stoop so low.

_"__Get out," the words left my mouth without even me noticing. The man, Bogdan I later found out, was silent. She was lying there, surprise written all over her face, as if she didn't fully comprehend what just happened and I gulped thickly. "Get out, I said." My voice was calm. Too calm._

_"__Aleks, I can ex-…"_

_I raised my hand. "No, don't. Now, please, get your things, get dressed and get out of my life." With that I left the room, door slammed shut behind me. I waited in the kitchen, God knows for how long- it seemed like an eternity- until she and her…lover emerged out of the room. She, or whatever was left of the woman I once thought I had known, looked abashed. _

_"__I expect all of your things out of my flat in two days. If you do not remove them from this property, then they will be considered trash and I will act accordingly," I say pointing at the bin in the kitchen. No one can explain how I managed to stay so calm and not rage at her, but I suppose I was too shocked to even try._

_"__Aleks…"_

_"__No. It's alright, Mihaela. I understand. My affections were never enough for you so you sought love somewhere else, with this man…?"_

_"__Bogdan," the man proudly told me his name. I glared at him, but turned my attention back to her._

_"__Right. Look, I know we grew apart. You and I are just too different; we would have probably broken up soon. But I suppose you just couldn't do it. You __**had**__ to go behind my back, while I did my best to please you, to buy you things you'd love although hell knows I despised them, but I wanted to make you happy, you just had to, didn't you? Well, I guess now the cat's out of the bag. Go live your life and don't __**ever**__ show up at my door. Don't even apologize, I cannot forgive you. What you did is inexcusable. You, missy, should have left me, if you were so unhappy and my only fault in this whole mess is that __**I**__ didn't say goodbye to you when I felt our relationship wasn't the same." I sighed. "Now get out of my house."_

_And with that she was gone._

_She never picked up her things and, as promised, I threw them all away and never heard of her since._

That was the last time I actually invested my time and money into someone properly. Sure, I've had girlfriends after her, but we never lasted long and we had never gotten close to each other. I suppose I was never over what she did although most of the time I deny it. Sure, our relationship was so far from being good it's a surprise it lasted for so long, but I had had feelings for her. It was one of my greatest flaws, the fact that I got attached to people so easily. So I guess a part of me now refuses to do so.

I glance at my phone as if I finally managed to break out of a deep trance. And in a way, I did. Those memories from times far away resurfaced so easily it was hard telling that they were long gone sometimes. A message. Eduard didn't lie when he said he sent me Matei's phone number.

Matei was a student very passionate about IT. I don't know if he ever got a job in his field, but I remember him always rambling about codes when I somehow stumbled upon him in the city. He was a bubbly character, always smiling and curious. Quite studios, but he had a way with people too. I quite envied him for that. I could socialize, sure, only that I was never anyone's top choice, whereas he was always in the centre of attention despite him being _really_ passionate about computers. I mean, really passionate.

With that in mind, I called him and hoped for the best.

Beep. Beep.

Beep, beep.

Finally, he picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Um, hello. Is this Matei Ștefan?" My voice sounded unsure even to me. Damn, when did I get so scared of talking to people?

"Yes. Who's this?" He asked suspicious all of the sudden and I couldn't blame him, I would have acted exactly the same.

"I'm Aleksander Balakov, we used to go to the same uni."

Suddenly, a sound of recognition could be heard from the other side. "Aaaah! It is you! Aleks, my friend, how are you?" See, he is a very sociable person.

"Oh, I am good, man. How about you?"

"I'm alright. Just finished installing Windows 7 for a client and I am taking a break. Man, I haven't heard from you in ages. How's life?"

"Oh wow. So you did find a job in the IT department, huh? Well, I knew you could do it. You were really passionate about it then, I would imagine you still are, if what you told me is anything to go by."

He laughed. "Yup. You know me. Can't go on a day without tinkering with my toys, as some of you boys used to say. I heard you and Mihaela broke up. I am so sorry, man. You didn't deserve it, really. If the guy I remember is the same guy I am speaking with now, I am telling you she had no right to do that to you."

I swallowed thickly at his mentioning of her name. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know, man. Women are so weird sometimes." He laughed.

"Yeah, I second that. Speaking of which, I think we should meet up. I can't really talk right now as my break isn't an official one, if you catch my drift, so how about we meet tonight at 9 when I finish my shift at the café? You know which café I am talking about right?"

I nodded. "Yes. Of course."

"Well see you later, laddie."

"Bye."

In all honesty, it went better than I thought.

Several hours later, just as promised, I planted myself in front of the café, the usual café we used to go at as students and hoped for the best. I made sure, before I left the house that I looked less like a scarecrow and more like a functioning human being, although it's hard to tell whether I truly succeeded or not. My eyes still host dark circles under them no matter how much I mentally wish them to go away.

"Oh, hey, Aleks, my man!" A boisterous voice sounded from behind me just as I am about to enter the café and I turned to look at the owner, although I already knew who it was. "Damn, I haven't seen you in ages!"

I smiled and accepted his bear hug, though hell knows no one can refuse the Matei bear hug, and greeted him.

"Come on, let's go inside. It's really chilly tonight as well. Damned weather," he muttered the last words under his beard. Which was blond and healthy, unlike the monstrosity that crawled on my skin for the past week before I decided it could not go on any longer.

Once inside, we made our way between the full tables and the strong scent of coffee and syrupy cakes until we found an empty table. We did not hesitate to occupy it. Shortly, faster than I expected, a young pretty girl came to take our orders and she left just as soon as she came.

"Man, you haven't changed at all. Tell me the secrets of your eternal youth because I am telling you, computers are great and all, but too much squinting at the screen gives you wrinkles faster than you'd ever think."

I chuckled. "I'm a vampire, but hush now, no one needs to know. It's just between you and I," I joked and we both laughed.

"How's your life anyway? Last time I saw you, you were working at that cosy book shop down the road. Nice place, by the way. My sister loves that place."

My smile faltered and he seemed to notice that too. "I…don't work there anymore."

Matei frowned. "What you on about? You loved that place! Everyone told me so. What happened?"

I sighed. "The man who originally owned the shop died a few years back and then his brother took his place. Let's say his brother didn't like me very much and hired someone else without even telling me."

His fist met the surface of the table before I could even blink and in fact, it did startle a few clients around us. "That's outrageous! I fucking hate it when people do that- fire people just because they can't stand them. I mean I am pretty sure you did your job more than just fine, so what was his problem? Fucking bastard!"

I smiled apologetically. "Honestly, I don't know. He just never liked me. And then one day he showed up at the shop with this girl and told me to show her the ropes. Just like that. He didn't even know she had experience with bookstores, but he hired her anyway!" Now I was getting a bit riled up as well. Fucking Claude and his…everything! Why did he have to fire me?

"But then, that means you're unemployed at the moment, aren't you?" All of the sudden, he asked.

I looked away. "Yes, unfortunately, job hunting isn't going to great for me at the moment," I admitted, suddenly the way the light shone on my nails while my hands rested on my lap became a very interesting thing to observe.

"Oh, Aleks… Can you even pay the rent? Is that flat yours? What about bills?"

My gaze fell on him once again. "I can. For now. But I won't be able to do so next month. I have savings, but it's not enough and I looked for another, cheaper flat, but I couldn't find any. I wouldn't be asking you this if I had any other option, but I don't want to…" My voice trailed off. I hated this. Begging, depending on others, these things were anything but my style. I was never in this position before, but then again, my parents used to be alive, I was young and naïve and now things are just not the same anymore.

"Say no more. I knew something was up when you called me after all these years." My heart skipped a beat and all I could do was hope he wasn't angry. I knew what I was doing wasn't at all proper and respectable, but I was desperate and I didn't know what else to do.

"I'm sorry, Matei, I…"

He put his palm in the air, telling me to stop. "It's alright. What I meant was I knew that something wasn't quite alright so I expected you to ask me a favour or something. And I'm alright with it. Hell, I have a free room since my ex moved out two weeks ago and I could use a flatmate. Especially one that doesn't nag me about clothes on the floor."

My eyes widened in surprise and I couldn't help but smile. "Really? Are…are you sure? I mean, it's totally alright if you don't want to take me in, you know. You don't have to. After all we haven't spoken in ages and I'm not that much of a great guy and…"

He laughed. "Oh, come on, if you're not a great guy, then this Earth is doomed. Honestly, if the guy I know is the same guy I am talking with, then I can't ask for a nicer person. You're quiet, you don't have sex with hell knows who all the time, you clean your stuff and are a serious, reliable guy. Plus, we are still friends. So what if we haven't talked for a while? We are men, we don't need to phone call each other every day for hours to talk about Nicki Minaj or some other celebrity being a slut on TV. You never let me down, I am pretty positive you won't either."

I was touched. I never knew Matei thought so highly of me and it kind of made me happy. "Thank you, it means a lot to me, really."

He waved a hand in the air. "Come on, you would have done the same for me."

And with that it was decided. I would leave my flat the next week, pay half the rent and estimated bills there to the landlord and then pay Matei the rest until I could get a job.

"Listen. Finding a job isn't an easy things and God knows I had my fair share of trouble with that. What I am saying is, give me whatever you can spare and we'll worry about money later when you have a job. I trust you won't trick me. So feel free to use whatever is in that house, unless I actually tell you not to." He winked at me and I instantly knew what he meant. Matei being so naturally good with people, always had girls falling at his feet. And he didn't take that lightly- he treated them like queens, always showering them with affections and last but not least gifts. It would be a shame if I ate the chocolate for his girl by mistake.

"Sure thing. You don't need to worry about that. Thank you though."

"Don't mention it."

And then he proceeded to tell me about that one time at the seaside when he was left penniless and drunk on the beach by his so called friends. One could say we made up for the time we didn't see each other.

* * *

And thus, we became flatmates.

Which was a bit strange since we were never _that_ close, but was also quite nice. Refreshing in a way.

Matei didn't joke when he said he left clothes on his floor more often than not and while in the first weeks I just ignored them and slalomed between the piles of fabric, at some point I just decided to clean up myself. I figured it was the least I could do to help him and show my gratitude for his hospitality and generosity so I took it upon myself to clean up the flat as a general rule.

I didn't mind it that much.

He worked strange hours sometimes, because, as I said, a day could not pass without him tinkering with a bit of software and he'd be often up at 2 in the night, repairing computers or God knows what else.

Spring came and the weather stopped whisking the wind harshly against our skin, the air suddenly being a pleasant thing to have around not only inside but outside too. The trees blossomed and filled the air with a sweet scent of new beginnings and people lost a few items of clothing as well in favour for something airier and colourful.

Like I said, refreshing.

What didn't go so well, was my job hunting. I did have more interviews, but so far no calls. To say I was getting a bit desperate is an understatement. At that point, I would have worked in a grocery store, anything to get out of this stagnation and the quite dull routine I was in.

I'd wake up, pick up the clothes from the floor if there were any, clean up the flat, wash the dishes, make myself a coffee and go on the internet in search for a job. I would apply to anything I could find relevant and then go take a shower. Later on, Matei would wake up, get ready and leave. I would read a book and then check the jobsites again. I'd eat at some point, Matei would come back, we'd eat, talk or just do our own thing and I'd search for jobs until I fell asleep.

Needless to say, I did my best. Every two days, I would go search the town for jobs armed with printed CVs. I'm telling you, living with an IT guy has it perks. For one, he'd always have the latest bit of technology and, more importantly, any kind of useful technology. Like printers, laptops, phones, you name it.

I can only hope and try some more.

* * *

But spring passed and with it so do my hopes. Matei seemed concerned as well and he tried to help me find a job too, but up until now there's no luck.

It was June now. The air was thick and hot. Merchants sold their delicious fruits in the big market in the centre of the city before the products spoiled, people wore even less layers of clothes and the city was alive once more.

Still, my career was non-existent and I was, more or less, a freeloader. Not by chance, because hell knows I was doing all I could, but I was still one nonetheless. Matei tried to assure me it was alright and that he knew it wasn't my fault, but I couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty.

I couldn't live off his money forever and seeing as I couldn't find any jobs, which is really strange, mind you, I came to the conclusion that whatever I was doing wasn't right. A radical change needed to be done and I had no time to waste.

Only that I had no clue what else I could have done that I haven't done already.

And thus, I found myself sulking in a park, under the protective shade of a green, green tree. I figured I needed a change of environment. Maybe like that I could generate new ideas. Good ideas that would solve my dilemma.

But several hours later, I was just as clueless, only more frustrated, than I was when I left the house. Therefore, I gathered myself from the ground and began my walk home.

I was so damned.

* * *

June passed. July did too. And August brought its infernal heat out of the sack full of nightmares and laid it on the green country of Romania.

Mid-June, beginning of July I manage to get a job at a local shop that sold all sorts of tools- from gardening tools to car tools. The place was cramped and the clients scarce and shady, but it paid and it was better than nothing. At least now I could start paying Matei back, although he kind of refuses to accept the money I am trying to give him for food, saying I clean up the house anyway and it wouldn't be fair. Of course, I didn't share his opinion, but he is as stubborn as a mule and I couldn't convince him.

Which is why I was sweating my soul out in a cramped, horrifyingly unstylish shop while I try to keep a calm face when a man twice as me with a glare that could kill comes up to me with various sharp instruments only a serial killer with ample bloody plans would want, instead of being at Matei's trying not to sob when applying for jobs.

Can't complain though.

Several hours later I was sat in a bar- hell knows how I got there- with a can of beer in front of me while surrounded by eight more people. As to how I ended up there, the reason is simple: Matei. The man decided that we needed "to celebrate my finding a job, albeit a little bit later than he meant to", to quote him and thus I was grabbed by the arm as soon as I got to his from work and dragged out of the house without much discussing.

Therefore, I am now at the bar. The same very bar I got drunk out of my ass several months ago when that strange man sort of coerced me into following him.

Thinking about it, I haven't seen the man at all in the past few months and there was no sign of him at the bar either, but then again I didn't really care. In a way I was relieved. He unnerved me by simply gazing at me.

_Those uncanny eyes of his…_

Letting out a sigh, I took a sip of my beer while trying not to make a face and brushed it off. I would probably never see him again. Hopefully.

And soon those silly thoughts of unnaturally coloured eyes and peculiar smiles were replaced by the fuzzy feeling of alcohol, my mood lightening and soon I joined the conversation with Matei's friends.

But things didn't stay like this for long.

**To be continued…**

**A.N.: **

**Pufu****leți*= corn-puffs (they are very popular in Romania, especially the ones made by the company Gusto.)**

**Corai= coral, a shade of orange-pink that was very popular at some point in Romania. Not sure if it still is as I do not live there anymore. **

**Well, ****I am back in town. I think this is the longest hiatus I have ever done and I am terribly sorry as it wasn't planned at all. For those who don't know and sort of care, I am going to leave here a summary of what made me disappear for a while.**

**I moved to UK two years ago and while I took a year from school, my old netbook broke down a year ago in April. Took me months to buy another one from e-bay in August a year ago, but in September I started college and became fully committed to my school work. At some point during the year I managed to fuck up my netbook again and took me many months to get a new Windows installed. But then, project finals at college were pressuring me and I couldn't find the time to write. Now I am finally in the summer holiday and I plan to write as much as I can before the second year begins.**

**But that's not all. A lot has changed since I moved. The circumstances of my leave were not pleasant, if you want to call it that, and I lost many things. I don't even know why I am writing this, I guess I just want to let it out although no one will probably listen. That's fine, I am used to having no one left there for me anymore, though it really hurts sometimes.**

**To put it simple, with my leave I lost all of my friends. Sure, we talk sometimes on FB, but it's not the same and more often than not they're busy with their lives and I can't blame them. And since I took a year off because I couldn't enrol anywhere in here since I moved here in the middle of October, I was left alone with my thought and insecurities. If I used to be a bit more confident before my move, if I could talk to people and make friends before, now I am completely unable of doing so. That year that I spent alone doing practically nothing made it impossible for me to open up to anyone. The fact that I lost all the people I really cared about doesn't help.**

**I fell out with pretty much everyone in my course simply because I feel so out of place and inadequate all the time. The fact that I am slightly older than most of my classmates doesn't help. I'm 19 while they're 17, except for a few and they view the world differently. They grew up differently and I don't feel like I can relate to them at all.**

**Currently, the only person I actually talk to in this country apart from my professors, is my boyfriend. I don't know how I managed to find someone odd enough to like me enough to talk to me, but I did.**

**What I am trying to say is that I find it hard to continue my stories anymore since most of them have strong friendships or funny, ridiculous moments, mostly caused by social interactions, when my life is actually really lacking in that aspect. I used to have friends, I used to be able to talk to people, I used to be confident about myself and now I can't even talk to people. My mind just goes blank and I fall silent.**

**I find it hard to write about characters or situations that remotely resemble a normal social human being and I am quite surprised I managed to write about Aleksander and Matei. **

**I am really sorry, I am rambling. **

**Ciao!~ **


End file.
